Once upon a time, in a great and vast land, the nine kings of power were summoned to the palace for an urgent matter, one of great importance. The head of their order stood lofty atop the pedestal of the wide, arched halls, he spoke from here and commanded and strengthened their allegiance with every word. The discussion was harsh and it was short for the solution became apparent quickly. There was a balance to things, one that held all life in its grasp and they had been aware for some time that this balance had been shaken: The lands were rich and virile, the sun kept bright and the moon cool, the elderflower seeds from the cliff face of the old castle were swept by the winds over the gentle hills, bringing warmth and light to the people below. A decision was reached and a decree was issued to seek to topple this injustice, clearly, the lands were blighted with affluence and prosperity and this can never last. So to bring balance back and to restore order for time to come, a denizen of restoration was released. One of such evil, stupidity and ignorance that it would forever tame the beauty of the world. And it was called equality.
Once people begin demanding equality, all hope is lost for the Promised Land. While the people tend the fields, take long, lazy days off and enjoy the sun, they take great pleasure from their work and their achievement and they feel safe embraced by the bosom of the benevolent. The powerful rejoice, instead, in seeing the area they command grow and prosper, in seeing the people contented with their work and in their work, they find value. People who ask for equality, though, seek to tear this down, they point out the injustice of the king’s castle compared to the tiller’s hut or the weaver’s cottage and they say, instead, all would be better off with equality of position forced on them.
When the lowly fisherman, returning from his hard day’s work were to look up at the shining walls of the castle beneath which he lived, would he not feel secure in knowing that on a cold night he would be invited in to dine with the king in front of the fire? And would he not feel such love as no man has ever felt, knowing that a great king watches over him from his keeps and his towers to keep him safe in the night? Would he not also feel such unknown love for the lands, in all their glory, for he is one with the populace and all share such bonds with the high and the low, in a place where such distinctions are not considered insulting.
Nobody to rule, nobody to work, they are all above working and it would be fascism to have a leader, so what’s left is lonely inactivity. The fields grow grey, the wells dry and the love suffers and wastes away under the asphyxiation of social tension, of disorder and hierarchy. The tall walls and the grand halls no longer welcoming, open chambers kept warm and safe by a garrison and leading and governing figure are now empty symbols of dominion and oppression watched over by spirit and a scornful eye.
History soon loses, as minds soon corrupt, the truth.